Lyrics:

She's not a girl who misses much
Do-do-do-do-do, oh, yeah
She's well acquainted with the touch of a velvet hand
Like a lizard on a window pane
The man in the crowd with the multicoloured mirrors
On his hobnail boots
Lying with his eyes, while his hands are busy
Working overtime
The soap impression of his wife
Which he ate and donated to the National Trust

I need a fix 'cause I'm going down
Down to the bits that I've left uptown
I need a fix 'cause I'm going down

Mother Superior, jump the gun
Mother Superior, jump the gun
Mother Superior, jump the gun
Mother Superior, jump the gun
Mother Superior, jump the gun (Oh!)
Mother Superior, jump the gun

Happiness is a warm gun
Happiness is a warm gun
Happiness is a warm gun
(Bang, bang, shoot, shoot)
Happiness is a warm gun
(Bang, bang, shoot, shoot)

Josephine, do you think you are going bald?
No, you've asked me that before
And the answer was no then